The Treasure_ A Novel - Iris Johansen [67]
“THAT’S ALL?” Tabia leaned back in her chair. “You’ve told me everything?”
“Yes. I told you that you probably knew all that I did.”
“Not quite all.” Tabia wiped her hands on her napkin before tossing it aside and reaching for her goblet. “And have your Kadar’s wounds healed sufficiently for him to travel?”
“He’s not my Kadar.” Selene sipped her wine. “He almost died. He should not travel.”
“But he could?”
Selene nodded.
“Then I’d wager Tarik has him halfway to Rome by now.”
“I didn’t mention Rome.”
“I noticed that omission. But Tarik has a house there, and it’s a reasonable place to hide Kadar while he trains.”
“Trains?”
“Yes.” Tabia’s abstracted gaze was fixed on Selene’s face. “This is the first time Tarik has sent me anyone. He must have a fondness for you. Has he bedded you?”
Selene’s eyes widened in shock. “No.”
“I didn’t really think he would. You’re too bold for his current taste. He likes his women meek and honey sweet. You have nothing sweet about you.” She grimaced. “That’s good. I sicken at the taste of honey. I enjoy a sharp bite but not smoothness. More wine?”
“No.”
“One more goblet. It will help you sleep.” She got up and strode to the table by the door, where Mario had set a fresh pitcher. She carried the pitcher to the table and poured the wine into Selene’s goblet. “You’ll need it.”
“You’re certain now that Tarik purposely sent me to you?”
“There’s no question in my mind. Though he’d probably deny it.”
“Why would he do that?”
“He wants me to do what he cannot.”
Selene tensed. “And what is that?”
Tabia chuckled. “By the gods, you think I mean to kill you.”
“It occurred to me.”
Tabia’s smile faded. “I don’t kill. I would not even kill that monster Nasim. Death is a horror to me.”
Selene believed her. Every word she had spoken had rung with passion. “He wanted to keep me far away from Kadar. Perhaps he doesn’t know that you feel as you do.”
“Oh, he knows.” She dropped back onto her chair. “We know each other very well. Finish your wine and I’ll tell you how well.”
Selene slowly sipped her wine. “I don’t care about your dealings with Tarik.”
“Even when the dealings concern you and Kadar? Of course you do.”
“Very well, what is Tarik to you?”
“He is my husband.”
Selene stared at her, stunned. “His wife is dead. He told me so.”
“Rosa? She was never his wife. How could she be when I was still alive when he wed her?” She looked away. “I’m his only wife.”
“Layla . . .”
Her gaze swung back to Selene. “He told you about me?”
“He told me of Layla, his first wife. He said I was like her.”
Her lips twisted. “I assure you that was no compliment. We are not on the best of terms.”
Selene’s mind was whirling. “You said your name was Tabia.”
“A small, necessary lie.”
“Why is a lie necessary?”
“You were confused enough. I saw no need to increase the muddle. Tarik and I parted long ago.”
“But you still send spies to Sienbara.”
“Because we have a joint interest. Not for any personal reason.”
“The treasure?”
“Tarik is a dreamer. One cannot always trust dreamers to do what is best. The coffer is too valuable to be left in his hands alone.”
“Then it does contain a grail?”
Layla nodded. “There is a grail. But there is no magic connected with it, as Nasim thinks.”
“It’s the grail of the Last Supper?”
Layla shrugged. “I do not think so. Perhaps. The grail is very old and was in the Holy Land at one time.”
“At one time?”
“It came into Tarik’s and my hands in Alexandria.” She drank deep of the wine in her goblet. “Do you know Alexandria?”
“It’s in Egypt. When I was at the House of Nicholas, we had patrons from there come to buy the silk.”
“Ah, yes, I remember now.” She smiled as she saw Selene stiffen. “You don’t like the fact that I know your roots. I told you that I had to know everything about everyone connected to Tarik.”
“The connection was not by our will.”
“But it exists.” She brushed the argument aside. “Besides, you should be proud of rising above that prison where